


Alleviating Boredom

by aintgonnaleaveyoumikey



Category: Grand Theft Auto Series (Video Games), Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Church Sex, Cutscene Rewrite, Facials, M/M, Paleto Score Setup, Public Sex, Sacrilege, Smut, handjobs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-27
Updated: 2021-02-27
Packaged: 2021-03-17 23:00:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29724540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aintgonnaleaveyoumikey/pseuds/aintgonnaleaveyoumikey
Summary: "Well, please, alright," Trevor said, spreading his arms as if inviting Michael to fight, but there was no anger in his voice. "You'd alleviate the boredom." He slumped back, blinking a few times. He looked more passive than Michael had seen him in ages.Michael's mind immediately went there.I'll fucking show you how to alleviate boredom.
Relationships: Michael De Santa/Trevor Philips
Comments: 10
Kudos: 43





	Alleviating Boredom

"How much fucking longer, Sugartits?"

Trevor was slumping on the bench, long legs stretched out. Michael, tired of sitting next to the fidgeting mess of a man he called his best friend, was standing up as far as possible from him without stepping onto the road. Although, he would rather get hit by a car than spend any more time with Trevor.

Waiting for Lester’s bus was hell, with Trevor complaining about being bored and Michael growing more annoyed by the minute. The mood had already been tense with them having fought on the way — what else was new — but now Michael’s temper was close to reaching the boiling point. 

He looked at his clock. "40 minutes," he grunted. One hour gone, 40 minutes to go. He took a deep breath. He could do this. He had been through worse than spending 40 minutes with bored Trevor. 

… Maybe. 

Trevor groaned, desperate, covering his face with his hands for a moment. "Fuck, I’m so fucking _bored_." He revealed his face again, eyes wide. "I’m so bored that I’m gonna snap someone’s neck soon, Mikey. I fucking hate scoping out scores." 

"Jesus, you’re worse than my kids when they were actual kids," Michael scoffed, disdain clear on his voice and face. "That’s always been your problem. You can’t sit still for one fucking minute."

Trevor huffed out a laugh that was anything but joyous. "Nah, nah, Mikey, that’s not it. I just preserved my youthfulness while you decayed in Los Santos. _I_ get shit done. _You_ do nothing but sit on your fat ass all day. You're just jealous because you can’t keep up with me anymore."

"No one can keep up with you," Michael spat out angrily. "That’s what happens when you’re fucked up on meth all the fucking time."

Trevor growled at him and sat up straight. "Fuck you, Michael."

"Right back at you, _Trevor_." He was done with this conversation. Any conversation with him, actually. He turned away to signal just how done he was. Maybe the bus would arrive faster if he stared at the road and tried to forget Trevor was here.

As if he could forget the man's presence. Even when he did shut up, it was impossible because his gaze felt like it was burning a hole through Michael’s head.

They went quite a while without talking. It was long enough for Michael to calm down a bit — after Trevor stopped staring at him, that is — and get him thinking. He almost regretted his behavior. _Maybe_ Trevor wasn’t the only asshole here…

… Never mind that. The asshole just threw rocks at him.

He turned to frown at the childish fucker. "Come on, man, knock it off." He brushed the back of his shorts a bit. 

"What?" Trevor tried to feign innocence and leaned back against the bench. Michael scoffed, shook his head a bit, and turned around.

_Just keep it together. Not much longer._

That’s when another small rock hit his back, and he lost his temper again. "I’m going to break your fucking fingers if you don’t knock that shit off," he snarled, pointing at Trevor angrily. 

"Well, please, alright," Trevor said, spreading his arms as if inviting Michael to fight, but there was no anger in his voice. "You'd alleviate the boredom." He slumped back, blinking a few times. He looked more passive than Michael had seen him in ages. 

Michael's mind immediately went there. _I'll fucking show you how to alleviate boredom._ But he wasn't about to say it out loud. Trevor would just get excited in all the wrong ways. Let him just be passive and quiet and—

"I'll fucking show you how to alleviate boredom."

 _Oh, fucking A_. He mentally cursed himself for never being able to resist those quips, the filmesque banter between him and Trevor.

It had always been like that. That was exactly how it had started between them all those years ago: Michael telling Trevor to go fuck himself and Trevor answering with, _wouldn’t you just prefer to fuck me yourself_. They were too drunk to get that far that time, but they did later, and too many times after that. 

So, of course, when Michael said it, Trevor visibly perked up. _Of course_ he did. He loved the suggestive jokes that rarely stayed as jokes — or at least in the past they didn’t. Still, now things were too different, Michael’s situation too fucking complicated to even consider anything with Trevor.

Not that Michael hadn’t had thoughts. It was impossible not to after he realized that Trevor had been trying to rekindle the old flame just like this, with these one-liners. But Michael had only focused on keeping his head straight and not thinking with his dick for once.

And now he was falling back to this routine, as well. 

Trevor sat up straight, his eyes practically gleaming with excitement. "Well! You have piqued my interest, Sugar. Do tell, how _are_ you gonna do that?" The suggestion in his voice was evident even if it was disguised as a question. 

Michael glared at him. This was not happening. Not here, not now, not ever again. Everything was too much of a mess, and it would just end up burning them both alive. 

But Trevor didn't know everything about his betrayal yet — ignorance is bliss, at least in this case. He stood up and walked towards Michael with a lightness in his step. "What, you get me all excited and then chicken out, Mikey, hm?"

His tone, quiet and challenging, was pulling Michael in. He kept glaring even when he wanted to look away, but the harsh reaction didn't turn off Trevor; he kept coming closer, easy-going steps as if they still did this all the time. As if he wasn't practically baiting Michael right now, hunting him. 

He was close enough to make any sane person uncomfortable, but Michael wouldn't budge. He didn’t want to give Trevor the satisfaction, he reasoned with himself. Couldn't let Trevor see what he was thinking. 

Trevor glanced around them before returning his gaze to Michael. "I’ve, uh, had thoughts." He licked his lips quickly; Michael followed his tongue moving but said nothing, so Trevor continued, his voice low in the way that always got to Michael. "You know. With us sharing the bed again. Just you and me, Sugar."

Trevor looked at him so intently that it made his head spin — as if nothing else existed but the two of them. In a way, that was true, or at the very least the feeling was mutual: at that moment, it felt like Michael couldn’t see anything but Trevor’s face, his heated gaze, and full lips, or hear anything but Trevor’s breathing and the words _just you and me, Sugar_ playing in his head. 

But it wasn’t just the two of them, was it? If Michael was completely honest with himself, he had to admit that if the third wheel called Mrs. Madrazo wasn’t spending her nights on Trevor’s couch, something like this might have happened even sooner, although he wouldn’t be spending this time with Trevor at all if he hadn’t kidnapped her — but nevertheless. 

Trevor's infatuation, _obsession_ with the woman, was off-putting and nearly incomprehensible, but at least Michael could use it for his advantage here. 

"... Oh, yeah. Just you, me, and the housewife you kidnapped," Michael answered sarcastically, trying to lure Trevor back into an argument. "You always did like them old, T, but this is a new low. Even for you."

Trevor shifted dangerously, but he kept his eyes on the prize — and Michael very much felt like one. A prize Trevor just couldn't wait to snatch. "Nitpicking, Michael," he whispered with a smirk as he leaned closer. "Is that all you got? Nitpicking and insults?"

Trevor was still entirely focused on him even after he brought up Mrs. Madrazo; he didn’t foresee that happening. It was like he was being drugged, almost all fight draining out of him. Trevor was the worst temptation in his life, but Michael had to resist it. He just couldn't yield. "Just back off, T," he said weakly. 

Trevor’s smile never wavered. "Tell me you haven’t thought about it and I will."

Michael shook his head just the tiniest bit. "I haven’t. I don't even know what you mean."

Trevor chuckled, not backing off; it was clear he wasn't going to give up. "Liar. Come on, Mikey, at least try to say it like you mean it. Convince me you're not thinking about it right now. About us." He gestured between them with his hand, then placed it on Michael’s shoulder — almost on his chest, actually.

Michael opened his mouth to argue again, but Trevor’s touch felt like it was burning through his shirt, seeping right into his soul. He knew the truth just as well as Trevor. What good would denying it do?

"Fine, I've thought about it," he muttered, making Trevor’s smile widen and his fingers curl against the thin fabric of his shirt — but Michael couldn’t stop himself from continuing, "but it doesn't mean anything."

Michael saw hurt flashing across Trevor’s face. "Doesn’t mean _anything_?" Trevor asked quietly. "It means fucking _everything_ to me, Cupcake."

Michael raised his eyebrows at him, and Trevor answered the unvoiced question with a fervor that was so uniquely Trevor. "Fine, I’ll say it if you won’t. I’ve fucking _missed_ us, Mikey. I miss the crazy shit we used to do together. I miss you not being able to keep your hands off of me even when I annoyed the shit out of you. I miss you holding me after you fucked me. I fucking miss you, you fat piece of shit. And you can’t convince me that you don’t miss it, too, because I know you better than anyone else in your miserable life."

Michael got increasingly more flustered as Trevor spoke, and in the end, he couldn’t help but admit it — the raw honesty of that confession combined with Trevor’s hand moving up towards the side of his neck made him lose the last ounce of willpower. He was ready to play with fire again. "... Yeah," Michael breathed out, but he was still clearheaded enough to realize that Lester’s bus would arrive in no time. " _Yeah_. But listen, Trev, as much as I… As much as I’d like to go down the memory lane with you, we don’t have time for that." 

Trevor stared at him, maybe in disbelief because Michael admitted it. Michael almost expected him to say something snarky, but he just licked his lips and laughed shortly, caressing Michael’s neck surprisingly gently with his thumb. "We got, what, 20, 30 minutes? Don’t know about you, Mikey, but that’s plenty of time for me."

Trevor’s gaze wandered down, which didn’t help the fact that Michael was already getting hard — the simple touch and Trevor’s presence was all it took, and his shorts did nothing to hide it. Trevor grinned, his hand making its way down Michael’s body, destination clear, but Michael grabbed his wrist tight, eyes widening in panic. "Not here! Jesus Christ," he hissed, giving Trevor a harsh glare. "We got a job to do here. We can’t attract attention."

" _Jesus_ , you say?" Trevor grinned, not taken aback by Michael stopping him. He leaned in to murmur to Michael’s ear. "Are you thinking what I’m thinking?" He nodded his head back, and Michael's eyes followed the movement.

The church.

"Oh, no." Michael looked at it, slightly horrified, and yet his brain was getting foggy with arousal. The absolute taboo of it...

Trevor pulled his wrist free from Michael’s hold and instead took his hand. He carefully tugged at first, and when Michael didn’t resist — how could he, really — he pulled again, harder. "Come on, let’s do some _sightseeing_ , Mikey."

Trevor’s hand was burning hot in Michael’s, and his voice was a low growl; Michael’s brain shut out anything that wasn’t Trevor. He had no choice but to follow.

"I… I’m not doing anything in the church," he still managed to mutter, albeit weakly. 

"You don’t have to." Trevor turned back and gave him a predatory smirk, walking backward toward the church. "Don’t think the door’s gonna be open, anyway, so I think outside will do just fine." Trevor glanced around quickly, and so did Michael, but there was no one looking at them, and the churchyard did seem empty. 

"Fuck," Michael breathed when Trevor turned around and led them up the small steps to the left side of the church. Trevor took a few faster steps, and Michael adjusted to his pace. On the other side of a fence, a couple of middle-aged women walking past them caught Michael’s eye. They ogled at them curiously, so Michael quickly jerked his hand away from Trevor’s — two men holding hands at a church was bound to attract attention that they couldn’t afford at the moment — but luckily, the women kept walking.

However, it made Michael pay attention to their surroundings. He realized that they would be in plain sight if they stayed outside, no spot for them to hide. But before he could complain to Trevor, he spun around and roughly placed his hand on Michael's chest. Michael’s body was incapable of resisting as Trevor maneuvered him towards the church until his back hit the wall. Trevor pinned him against it with his body, hands on his hips.

Michael felt Trevor's erection pressing against his. He drew in a sharp breath, staring into Trevor’s eyes that now looked more crazed than anything else, and then Trevor rolled his hips, grinding against him, making them both moan in unison. 

But the risk was too high even though they couldn't be seen from the bus stop. "Wait, T," he gulped, fighting through the arousal and lifting his hands to Trevor’s chest, "anyone could see us here." 

"We'll just gotta be fast, eh?" Trevor murmured and dipped his head to Michael’s neck, but Michael stopped him. Trevor lifted his head and gave him a look that was both amused and heated. "Stop resisting, Mikey. You know you want it just as much as I do."

"Yeah, but no," Michael breathed out, voice strained. "T. Not _here_." He pushed Trevor’s chest, glancing around nervously.

Trevor growled but stepped away, adjusting his erection in his sweatpants. Michael, flustered and out of breath, quickly moved his gaze up as Trevor started pacing. "Fuck, Mikey, you weren’t always this boring. What the fuck happened to you, man? You used to—"

Trevor’s rant was interrupted by the church bells starting to chime dramatically above them. Michael clutched his chest, pretty sure his heart literally skipped a few beats; he jumped away from the wall in fright and instinctively looked up. He didn't believe in divine intervention, but if he did… "Fuck," he cursed. "Trev, we should just go back—"

The sound of wood breaking was almost covered by the bells booming, but not entirely. Michael turned to look in shock. 

Trevor had kicked in a door — it was barely hanging by its hinges now — that Michael hadn’t even paid any attention to. "Jesus," he gasped, eyes wide open as he stared into a small storage room that seemed to be filled with garden tools. "What the fuck, Trevor?!"

Trevor grabbed his hand again. "I think Jesus is busy _upstairs_ , you know, but will I do?" he smirked and pulled Michael into the storage. Michael stumbled on the threshold because Trevor was using more force than earlier, but he managed to stay on his feet. 

"What the fuck?" Michael repeated with a hiss when the bells quieted down, glaring at Trevor before turning back to look at the door. "Do you _want_ us to get caught? What if someone heard that?" 

Trevor scoffed and stepped to the door. "Stop complaining. It wasn’t louder than the fucking bells." He shoved the door close, except that it _didn’t_ close properly anymore. It still did its job, hiding them from the outside world; the room was chilly and dim with only a little light coming through the crack of the door.

It took Michael a few seconds to get used to the dimness, but after that, he saw the corners of Trevor’s mouth pull up just slightly. With a mocking tone, he continued, "Even if it was and some poor fucking priest walks in on us, Mikey, we can just pray for forgiveness, right? Isn’t that how the whole religion thing works?"

"Shut up," Michael huffed and rubbed his mouth quickly, nervously. If Hell was real, they were going anyway, but desecrating a church certainly wouldn’t help. He didn’t want to dwell on that.

Trevor snorted. "Whatever." He didn’t waste a second more as he closed the distance between them, rough hands finding their place on Michael's hips. "So... No one can see us now and we still got time. If you come up with more excuses, I’ll just assume you don't actually want me, Porkchop."

The closeness and Trevor’s gravelly voice were enough for Michael’s dick to start getting hard again. "Of course I fucking want you," he grunted.

God help him; he had tried to stop wanting Trevor. Arguably, wanting Trevor was his greatest mistake. _Acting_ on that desire was his downfall. Everything would be so much simpler if he could only keep away. If he could only stop himself from lifting his hands to Trevor’s neck. 

"Show me," Trevor challenged. 

Everything would be simpler if only he could refuse to rise to the challenge, but deep down, he knew that he just didn’t want to do that. Surrendering to Trevor was too damn easy, and Michael had always been dangerously greedy, even hedonistic. Trevor was _pain_ , but he was also _pleasure_ , the embodiment of everything good as well as everything fucked up in Michael’s life. 

He went after the pleasure as he mindlessly crashed their lips together, holding Trevor’s face. Trevor responded with matching passion, their tongues twirling against each other hard and desperately. Trevor’s hands dropped to Michael’s ass and groped him almost violently; he moaned into the kiss, which apparently excited Trevor, seeing that he bit Michael’s bottom lip _definitely_ violently.

Michael gasped and drew away from the kiss, shooting Trevor a displeased look. Trevor looked at him like a madman, eyes filled with fire, and started to push him back, not an inch of space between their bodies. Michael turned his head to look, worried that Trevor might just impale him with a fucking rake or something, but his back hit a wall between two shelves with a thud. Trevor immediately started grinding their erections together, strong hands still on his ass, pulling their crotches together and almost lifting Michael a bit in his fervency. 

"You’re not getting away from me this time, Mikey," Trevor panted into his ear, tasting his earlobe with a flick of his tongue. "Not when I’m finally having you."

Michael flushed, unsure how he should react to Trevor’s possessiveness, but he knew there was no chance of him wanting to get away. "Fuck, Trev," he breathed out in pleasure, closing his eyes and pushing his hips up to meet Trevor’s, who was encouraged by his reaction. He sucked on his earlobe loudly and enthusiastically, then moved down to lick and suck at Michael’s neck, teeth only gently gracing his skin. 

He reduced Michael to a moaning mess, his body quivering with the pleasure that Trevor's lips and rolling hips gave him. Even when clothed, the friction was maddeningly good. And what made it better was Trevor, so eager to _have_ him. 

It was different than in the past. Of course, Trevor had always been full of energy, sexual or otherwise, but he never used to be so… dominant. They had both changed since they were just kids wanting to work their way up the criminal ladder, but as Michael lost his drive over time, Trevor only grew more ambitious and assertive. 

Michael Townley would never have accepted being pushed or bossed around like this. 

Michael De Santa, however, felt like he owed this to Trevor Philips, the man he had betrayed. 

So when he grunted, "Jerk me off, Sugartits," and pulled back slightly to push his pants and underwear down to his thighs, Michael didn’t hesitate. He palmed Trevor’s cock firmly, his other hand holding on to Trevor’s hip as if his life depended on it. Trevor opened the button and zipper of Michael’s shorts, pulling them down with his boxers, and returned the favor, closing the distance between them again. 

They pleasured each other, their pace immediately fast; they had neither time nor patience for slow. They leaned their foreheads together, and occasionally Trevor pressed hungry, careless kisses to his lips. Michael kept his eyes closed and got lost in the sensation of heat and passion, lost in Trevor’s grunts and moans and curses and whispers of "I fucking missed you," lost in the feeling of Trevor’s lips and his hand holding onto his hair tightly.

It never took Trevor long to come, which Michael used to tease him relentlessly about, among a few other things. Even after their time apart, Michael knew when he was close; his grunts turned into whines and his body started shaking, but he also moved his hand faster, trying to bring Michael to his finish, too.

Michael couldn’t even imagine teasing Trevor now. He had more pressing matters in his mind. "Not _on me_ , T," he choked out, barely getting the words out because of the overwhelming warmth that was spreading inside him — and if he had stopped to examine the feeling, he might have noticed that it wasn't all just physical pleasure. "We… we gotta be presentable when Lest..."

Trevor interrupted him with a growl, but surprisingly, he didn't argue. He let go of Michael and moved back, about to say something, but Michael didn't let him speak — a quick kiss on the lips made sure of that — or get too far from him. Still holding his cock, Michael stepped behind him, resting his jaw on Trevor’s shoulder and wrapping his arm around his waist. He pulled Trevor close, and his own erection pressed deliciously against Trevor’s ass, making them both shiver. 

His hand moved quickly up and down Trevor's shaft. He let out a breathy bark of a laugh and murmured, "Not on you but on the wall of a _church_ , Mikey? How sacrilegious of you." 

Michael huffed quietly in his ear. "Technically, we're not _in_ the church. And don't pretend you have any respect for… for anything." It wasn’t one of his best comebacks by far, but he couldn't concentrate on much else but his hand and making Trevor moan with the sensation. 

And when he pressed his lips on Trevor’s neck and tightened his grip just slightly, Trevor did moan, in fact so loudly that Michael had to lift his hand to cover his mouth. Trevor gasped against it, and Michael could recognize the familiar chanting of _Mikey, Mikey, Mikey_ even when it was muffled. His cock twitched desperately at the sound, but he didn't pay it any mind, pushing away his selfishness. _Trevor first._

Trevor's knees buckled, and he basically collapsed into Michael's arms, his cry muffled by Michael’s hand, as he shot his load all over the wall. Michael cursed and slowly stroked Trevor through the climax, mesmerized by the perverted sight and the feeling of his cock pressing between Trevor's asscheeks. God, if only they had more time… He would bend Trevor over one of those shelves… Or even better, press Trevor’s face on his own cum on the wall and fuck his ass ruthlessly, just like he used to when they were young… 

But he wasn't sure if he could do that anymore. Maybe they had changed too much, and now Trevor would do that to him — and Michael knew he had truly changed because even the _thought_ of bending over and spreading his ass for Trevor… Trevor fucking him fast and rough, like a sordid payback for everything he had done wrong… 

He stifled a moan against Trevor's neck and then, in a moment of insanity, wrapped both his arms around Trevor’s waist, hugging him while he seemed to wallow in a post-orgasmic haze. 

_Hugging Trevor_. He knew what he was doing, but he didn't know how he could allow himself to do it. It was a dangerous game; Trevor could get so attached so quickly. When he got obsessed over someone, he acted like they were his whole world, no limits to what he would do — a case in point: Patricia. And maybe, once upon a time, Michael himself. 

He had to be smart enough not to let Trevor develop those feelings. _Just sex and just this once. Just to release some stress and alleviate some boredom. Nothing more._

But Trevor breathed out shakily and caressed Michael's arms, and it was already dangerously intimate, something he couldn't afford indulging in. Michael started thrusting his hips, rubbing his cock on Trevor’s ass, to hide his thoughts from Trevor. 

Luckily, Trevor just hummed in delight and bent over slightly, giving Michael a better angle. He grunted and thrust harder; _just sex_ became his mantra as he chased more friction, arms tightening around Trevor. But as good as it felt, he couldn't come like that. He needed more, and as if reading his mind, Trevor stood upright — Michael quickly let go of him, as if he didn't want to hold him at all — turned around and palmed his cock. A small, satisfied smile played on his lips as he expertly moved his hand, then leaned in for a kiss. 

It was probably a bad idea because Michael quickly forgot his mantra. He kissed back enthusiastically, wrapping his hands around Trevor’s waist. It didn’t take long for Trevor to bring him close to the edge again, not when he had the extra stimulation, not to mention all of Trevor’s attention. 

"... I think it’s a waste, Sugar," Trevor murmured against his lips, his tone indecipherable. "And a shame. A damn shame."

"What is?" he answered breathily, nervously, pulling back to look into Trevor’s eyes. Trevor inclined his head backward, a wicked grin spreading on his face. Michael snorted weakly when he understood. "Christ, T… What, you were gonna _use_ that for something?" 

"Yeah, I might have." Trevor chuckled and cupped his balls, tugging them gently. Michael's breath hitched, then nearly stopped when Trevor suddenly dropped to his knees and moved his hand faster, cock right in front of his face. "It’s a good moisturizer, apparently."

"Oh, shit, T," he gasped, eyes wide, and when Trevor opened his mouth and stuck out his tongue a bit, he cried out and came with violent spurts, cock twitching in Trevor's hand. Trevor let the cum hit his tongue and lips, but some landed on his cheek and jaw, too; Michael was left breathless and wordless in front of the familiar, captivating sight that at the same time felt brand new. Like they were reborn.

At that point, Michael knew he was fooling himself. If it really were just about sex, he would be walking out already and not lifting his hand to the side of Trevor’s head, petting his hair. He would not be marveling at the wicked, dirty, beautiful expression on Trevor’s face or the way he looked up with a cum-coated grin.

Trevor swallowed and licked his lips before leaning in to suck the tip of Michael’s slowly softening dick. He moaned as aftershocks rippled through his body, fingers curling to hold Trevor’s hair. "Fucking A, Trev…"

But all too fast, it was time to move on, seeing that the bus would arrive soon. Michael let go, stumbling back a bit, and Trevor stood up, the grin still plastered on his face. He looked more pleased than Michael had seen him since their reunion. 

"You'll get more of that later, Porkchop," Trevor promised and wiped his face and mouth with the back of his hand, then pulled up his sweatpants and wiped his hand on them — Michael winced but didn't say anything. As if Lester would pay any attention to any stains on Trevor's clothes. It would be weirder if he wore something clean. 

The bigger problem was that promise and the genuinely happy smile on his face. Banging guilt immediately overtook Michael, and he kept himself busy with fixing his clothes so that he wouldn’t have to answer. He didn't trust himself to speak because his increasingly more panicked brain kept telling him he had fucked up again.

Trevor didn't even know the whole ugly truth of what he had done. He didn't comprehend the extent of his lies, didn't know about Brad's death and the plan. Michael, however, knew that he couldn’t keep the secrets from Trevor forever. Eventually, he would slip up, and Trevor would find out.

It was bound to be a lot worse after _this_. How would Trevor react? What would he do after yet another addition to the already long list of Michael's betrayals that he undoubtedly, at least figuratively, kept? Michael couldn’t even imagine, but he realized that there was no way they would get over it, not with Trevor’s feelings already so hurt.

Maybe the only way this could end was one of them in the grave. Maybe both of them in the—

Trevor whistled at him somewhat loudly, and he looked up in alarm. Trevor seemed amused. "Are you even listening to me, you fuck?" 

"Uh... no," he admitted hastily, not having registered that Trevor had spoken. "What?" 

Trevor rolled his eyes but then smirked. "You and your orgasm brain. I said that you'll get more of that later. And _more_ than _that_. We have plenty of time, seeing that you, uh… sleep in my bed."

Oh, God. They _were_ sleeping in the same bed. And if he said no after breaking the ice between them like this, Trevor might realize something was not right. But if they kept doing this, it would just be that much worse if — when — he did find out the truth. 

His body felt sweaty and clammy. There was no way out of this mess, but there was something he could try to get Trevor off his back in some capacity. He cleared his throat, carefully looking at Trevor. "And what about Mrs. Madrazo?" 

Trevor raised his eyebrows and stepped closer to Michael again. "Are you... jealous, Sugar, hmm?" he asked with a low, teasing murmur. 

"No," Michael scoffed, trying to keep his voice from shaking, pursuing the usual sarcastic tone of his. "I just don't want her to have to hear anything. Poor lady has been through enough already. Being married to a mob boss and having to live with you, for a start."

Trevor huffed but seemed to consider it for a moment, then shrugged. "Fine. More outdoor adventures it is, Michael. I bet you missed that shit."

"I already told you I did," he mumbled awkwardly before rolling his neck, trying to regain some normality in his posture, just to have any control over something. "What would your new _girlfriend_ say if she knew what you're doing with me?" 

Trevor squinted his eyes and growled, "Oh, I don't know. What would your fucking _wife_ say?" 

"Fair point," Michael admitted with a sigh. "Listen, let's not... We gotta pretend nothing happened. No one can know, alright? My family can’t find out." 

Trevor growled, "Jesus. A man your age should not be that deep in the closet. It’s pathetic."

"Trev…" he started exasperatedly but didn’t get any further before Trevor interrupted. 

"I never told anyone. I know how you’re like," Trevor said simply but with a sharp look.

Somehow, Michael didn’t have any doubts about that. "Great. Let's keep it that way," he muttered.

Trevor looked at him harshly, so he quickly put his hand down on Trevor's shoulder and continued soothingly, "It would just complicate things. I— _we_ don't need that shit. Let's just try to… You know…" He squeezed Trevor’s shoulder a bit. 

"Have fun?" Trevor suggested with a tight smile. "Like when we were young?"

"Sure. Like when we were young," Michael agreed, hoping Trevor wouldn't notice the disingenuity. Somehow he didn't think he would have much fun trying to keep up with all his lies. He never had that mental baggage when they were young; Trevor wasn’t the one he used to hide things from. 

Trevor nodded and seemed to cheer up after that, giving Michael’s ass a slap when they left the storage. Michael ignored it, and they made their way back to the bus stop nonchalantly. Luckily, there was no one there to spot them, nothing that would prevent them from surveying the score once Lester arrived. Assuming no one noticed the broken door before they left. 

Trevor sat back down, and Michael considered sitting down next to him because he was honestly exhausted, but maybe it was better to have some distance between them. He had more space for his guilt standing on the edge of the sidewalk.

And when Trevor threw a few more pebbles at his ass with a massive grin on his face like it was all just a fun game, Michael couldn't muster the energy to be angry or playful or anything that Trevor probably hoped for. He just huffed out a small laugh and turned to observe the road again. 

He did, however, look at Trevor from the corner of his eye; he sat back, withdrawing, grin dying down. Michael felt like an asshole for ruining Trevor's mood, but he didn’t know how to fix it — he didn’t even have time to. "Ah, here we go," Michael noted when he saw the bus and gave Trevor a small nod towards it.

Trevor got up, and they exchanged a look. Michael wanted to tell him again not to say anything, but the seriousness in Trevor's eyes suggested that he didn't need to. Instead, he tried to smile a bit; it was just a slight upturn of lips, a desperate attempt to cheer Trevor up and convince them both that everything was okay. 

He didn't smile back, but he didn't scowl either. Michael considered it a victory. 

They greeted Lester as he got off the bus, and to Michael's surprise, Trevor acted... normally. Even pleasantly. Like nothing sacrilegious or unsavory had happened. 

"It’s dry out here," Lester grumbled as they started making their way to the car. 

Trevor had an answer ready. "Don’t worry, brother. Michael will take care of _all_ your moisturizing needs."

 _That funny fucker_. Michael suppressed a laugh — because hey, at least Trevor didn’t make it sound too obvious — and a remark about Lester probably not enjoying Michael's moisturizing quite as much as Trevor. 

The small joke lightened his mood enough for him to realize that if Trevor was going to be like this, at least the rest of his time in Sandy Shores wasn't looking to be quite as boring. He might as well have some fun with Trevor before the flimsy house of cards that was his life would eventually come crashing down.

**Author's Note:**

> ....................... And after this Trevor calls Jimmy and tells him that Michael has moved in with him. _Just having fun_ my ass. 
> 
> Thank you to Marina for saving this fic. It wouldn't be finished without you! <3
> 
> Go follow [my Tumblr](https://nevergonnasimpyoumikey.tumblr.com) for commissioned art from my fics etc!


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